All it had was superb Roman-style pizza al taglio baked from scratch with tremendous ingredients and pride to match. And that, sadly, wasn’t enough to make it London.

I knew I could count on Melograno Alimentari in Holland Park for the very best Italian meats, cheeses and pasta and Andreas Fine Fruit & Vegetables in Chiswick for the highest quality Italian tomatoes, organic lemons and basil. It was reassuring to learn the chef had packed his own prized guanciale (cured pig’s jows), extra virgin olive oil, dry spices, two hard cheeses and home-grown herbs and tomatoes in his hand luggage.

What I failed to grasp is that “straightforward” is not an Italian word.

Just deciding upon the right spaghetti shape was a nightmare that quickly descended into Italian farce (read more). Much worse, Dandini’s shopping list overlooked one key ingredient:

A sous-chef.

The day before the dinner Dandini’s good friend and right-hand man Mahesh, a Bangladeshi national, was stopped at Gatwick passport control and, after hours of interrogation and delay, sent back to Rome. Dandini rode the airport minicab to Central London accompanied only by his salumeria-in-a-suitcase and growing anxieties. Within 28 hours he would be preparing a dinner, alone, in the unfamiliar kitchen of Andrew’s, an old Gray’s Inn greasy spoon, for 80 strangers.

I put out an urgent call for a replacement sous-chef and Giorgio Locatelli – a name so big even Dandini’s eyes widened when he heard it – saved the day. Ivan Icra Salicru, Locatelli’s secondo, emailed to say he’d spoken to Salvo and that the trusted “rock-and-roller” at Locanda Locatelli would be happy to fill in for Mahesh.

“Happy” is perhaps too strong a word. When, to use his full name, Salvatore Sardo showed up at Andrew’s 90 minutes before showtime he asked me two questions: ‘Where am I?’ and ‘Why am I here?’ Apparently he had not volunteered for the assignment. No, Salvo was planning to spend his night off watching Italian football when he got a text from his boss to be at 160 Gray’s Inn Road at 5pm.

Salvo (above left) was a fitting name for a substitute secondo who saved all. He was an ace under pressure in the kitchen, picking up even the most subtle cues from Dandini and lifting the Roman’s spirits at moments of frustration and, yes, panic. Thanks to this rock-and-roller 80 Londoners got to know the spaghetti alla matriciana regarded by Katie Parla, the journalist/blogger behind the definitive Rome for Foodies dining app, as the best in Rome. Its superiority reflected the cooking philosophy of Rome’s Pope of Pasta as well as fourth-generation restaurateur (L’Arcangelo – via Giuseppe Giaocchinio Belli, 59, Rome) and author of the cookbook Memoria a Mozzichi – “Memory and Small Bites”:

For me food is connected to the memories and aromas of my territory. The quality of the outcome is completely linked to the quality of the raw ingredients. I use pasta extruded through bronze die and cooked al dente, a rather dry guanciale, Pecorino Romano of the highest quality, and, ideally, tomatoes from my mother’s garden. Cooking is about ingredients, not technique.

–  Arcangelo Dandini

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I don’t look at Massimo Riccioli of Rome’s la Rosetta and see only a truly great chef. I follow his outsized gestures, expressions and whimsy and see a comedian, a throwback to the stars of classic Italian cinema. I imagine a first-name celebrity: Say only Massimo and it can mean only Riccioli.

I was deeply disappointed by the news that Massimo had left Massimo, the glitzy London restaurant and oyster bar at the ritzy Corinthia Hotel. But I am grateful that before returning to Rome he revealed to me a secret to his culinary stardom as well as a hope for the future.

So what secret did I learn from the consummate Italian seafood chef who, though a fusspot for simplicity, can’t manage in the kitchen with only one all-purpose fish stock?

Did I ask him why he bothers matching fish stocks to the specific fish they enrich (e.g. a mackerel stock only for mackerel dishes?)  No, I am not about to stock my fridge with a variety of single-fish fish stocks, no matter how convincing his reasoning.

Did I ask him about his sublime formula for pasta al nero di seppia (in cuttlefish ink), as the slideshow above might lead you to guess? No, I assumed the zesty tang from the sprinkling of grated Pecorina Romano did the trick, in open defiance of the no-cheese-with-seafood rule, and did not prod any further.

I chose instead to direct my question to his creative vision:

Where, Massimo, did you get your eyeglass frames?

Massimo smiled, pulled the blocky black frames from his face and examined the printing on the inside of their temples. The act was pointless and Massimo knew it. The tiny inscriptions are impossible to read without glasses. The frames, he revealed, were knockoffs of a model by a famous British designer.

As I scribbled his answer word-for-word Massimo realised he’d made mistake which, back home in Rome, might have dire consequences.

“No, no, no,” he said. The frames were in fact originals from Mondelliani (Via dei Bergamaschi 49, Rome). Mondelliani co-founder Rosaria Riccioli is, in addition to being Rome’s first name in eyeglass design, Massimo’s sister.

Her brother the chef/comedian hopes to be back in London, possibly to prepare simpler, trattoria fare. But at the moment his greatest wish of all is that his sister Rosaria does not see this post.

My favourite of his many varieties: the classic combo of salsiccia (here chunks of mildly spicy sausage resistant yet irresistible to the chew) set against a desirably bitter backdrop of broccoletti (aka broccoli raab, broccoli rabe, rapini, friarelli).

I hint that Herbie’s salsiccia and broccoletti  pizza slice may no longer be the best only because the Roman native now has stiff competition from Nicola and Daniele, two pizzaioli who now work with him. Their pizza al taglio crust is thinner and crisper and has compelled Herbie to up his game.

The only thing separating Datte Foco from true greatness are its deficits in supply and demand: supply of customers with a demand for £2-£2.25 slices. Al taglio is ready-to-go pizza and therefore relies on steady trade to keep the trays turning and allow the pizzeria to offer more combinations. A queue outside a shop in Rome may not be a sure indication of quality but it does suggest the trays of pizza loaded into its window displays won’t sit for very long.

So why are there rarely long queues at Datte Foco? Is it the location in N16, north of Central London with no nearby tube station? Are passersby discouraged by unclear pricing determined by weight? Are they put off by what looks to them like unappetising cold pizza sitting in the window? Do they dislike the vibe, the rear dining area, the counter service? Are they opposed on principle to pizza that isn’t round?

For me none of that matters if Herbie, Nicola and Daniele keep baking salsiccia broccoletti pizza and, see below, aubergine (eggplant) ricotta basil tomato pizza like theirs. Until – fingers crossed – London catches on I am tempted to form my own queue, ordering one small square and then doubling back behind me to order another. And another. And another. Care to join me?

Datte Foco, 10 Stoke Newington Church Street, London N16 0PE (map)

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A second double take is elicited by what lies just inside the window: pizza al taglia and pizza bianca romana so good they could be mistaken for treasures stolen from the Eternal City. Sure I am getting a bit overexcited: This is hardly the first place in Londinium to do either pizza al taglio – “cut” pizza usually sold by weight (see Maletti and Princi), nor is it the sole practitioner of authentic pizza bianca romana (see Spianata). Moreover, the dough is still evolving and the finished product, like all pizza rustica (as the by-the-slice format is known outside Rome) invariably suffers in the reheating. You’ll nonetheless forgive my giddiness once you’ve sunken your teeth into one of these crisp yet puffy rafts and explored its exceptional topography.

The pizzeria was opened by Stokey native Neil Belgrave (above left) and Herbie Leonelli (above right with slab of bianca), two friends who said “datte foco” to their City jobs in finance. Leonelli’s tale is especially poignant: His Anglophile parents travelled from Rome to London so he could be born here and then shipped him off to English boarding school at 13. (You can see him wince even now from the retelling). 20 years later he returned to Rome to apprentice as a pizzaiolo at Pizzeria Russo in the Prati district. His journey home is what’s known, in Rome and elsewhere, as la forza del destino – “the force of destiny.”

Pizza bianca romana ought not be confused with the tomato-less white pizzas seen on pizzeria menus all over. Brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with salt and rosemary, the Roman version is more like focaccia than pizza. My colleague David Downie, author of the definitive Cooking the Roman Way and the indispensable Food Wine Rome guide, observes that it’s crispier and more porous than focaccia and likens it instead to “a leavened flatbread with a rough, uneven texture varying in thickness from 1/4 to 3/4 inches.” The thicker half of that description matches Leonelli’s pizza bianca londinese.

Datte Foco outfits its pizza al taglio in a wide assortment of good-quality toppings. Some combinations are baked nearly every day; others are specials. A couple of the former, like the pizza topped with potatoes cut to the size of frites, were meant to be one-offs but proved too popular. The Margherita is blanketed with decent fior di latte (cow’s milk mozzarella), yet it’s not as pleasing as the pizza rossa with only roma tomato sauce or anything with mushrooms and sausage. It’s a mouth feel thing. Melted mozza doesn’t always reheat all that well.

A great plus of pizza al taglio is that it allows you to sample several varieties at one. You are encouraged to do just that, to go light yourself on fire. Alternatively this might be more fun to do as a group: youngandfoodish.com will be launching a series of pizza Tuesdays, the first of which will take place on the 2nd of February at Datte Foco at 7:30pm. To learn more or book a place at the table,  click here.

Datte Foco: A Pizza & Love Joint – 10 Stoke Newington Church Street, London N16 (see map). Tel: 020 7254 6055

The first Spianata & Co rolled out in 2004, so it is something of a stretch to term this Italian sandwich shop a discovery. Yet the thousands of City suits who walk by it every day, oblivious to its very existence, can make it seem like an esoteric find.

This pizza bianca is not the tomato-less “white pizza” featured at pizzerias but is instead the near-naked raft of classic flat bread from Rome. It’s one of the world’s great chews. Forget cheese: the only toppings are scant olive oil, salt and rosemary. Spianata’s version may not compare to Rome’s best –  Antico Forno Roscioli, Forno Campo de’ Fiori – but its golden, bronze-highlighted color looks right and its crisp-crusted air pockets and low density allow for chewy compression. My lone frustrations: that it’s baked with no rosemary to speak of and mostly in advance. If you want it warm, as you should, you usually have to ask for a reheat, which hardens the bread and doesn’t do it justice.

Spianata also prepares pizza rossa romana, which, as you’ve guessed, is painted with a coat of tomato sauce. It’s thinner and crisper than the bianca and altogether fabulous. Incredibly it’s only £1.60 cold, £1.85 reheated (due to VAT). I’ve otherwise tried and liked 3 toasted sandwiches assembled with pizza bianca, including the delightful Nutella breakfast panino, but won’t explore any further. From now on it’s either the bianca or the rossa for me. If I want a sandwich I’ll get 2 rossi and stick them together.

Spianiata has good espresso and cappuccino prepared with illy’s arabica blend. The illy red sign is hardly a reliable indicator of quality preparation, but here they have Italians who care about coffee on both sides of the counter and the results are positive. Spianiata didn’t make my list of top 10 coffee shops in London, nor did it qualify for my top 10 London pizzerias (which rated only Margheritas). Still, when stuck within the walls of London’s Square Mile, why not follow the Roman way?

Click here to view map

73A Watling Street, London EC4
41 Brushfield Street, London E1
20 Holborn Viaduct, London EC1
12 Moorfields, London EC2
29/30 Leadenhall Market, London EC3